First Impressions Series (1-2)

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First Impressions Series (1-2) Page 14

by Nicole R. Locker


  What was I really thinking, getting myself in over my head like that?

  I finally let myself take in everything and actually let myself feel it for once, there in the dark, quiet solitude of my room. Everything that had transpired with Dylan over the past week had even overshadowed the near-rape experience with Cason.

  It had taken hold of me, consumed me, as much as I tried not to let it. Even as much as I tried to deny it, it had still managed to catch up to me, and now I finally understood what Anna in Fifty Shades had meant, alluding to herself as Icarus flying too close to the sun.

  I decided to get up and pour myself a glass of wine, just to help myself relax enough to be able to fall asleep, since my brain didn’t seem to want to shut off tonight. I sounded like some kind of alcoholic, I thought to myself, needing a drink to be able to fall asleep, to take the edge off. Oh well, it was one night, one glass of wine. I would afford myself this tonight.

  I got back into my bed with my glass of wine in hand, and for the first time in a long time, I got out my journal and began writing, which always helped me put things into perspective.

  At about midnight, my phone sounded the soft ringing to indicate an incoming text.

  Dylan: You awake?

  Me: I am.

  Dylan: Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to come across as a jerk.

  Me: Don’t think that way. You weren’t a jerk.

  Dylan: When is my last session?

  Me: You’re still interested?

  Dylan: Yes

  Me: I guess we can try tomorrow night if you aren’t busy.

  Dylan: Tomorrow night it is. Meet me at the Book Shelf at 7?

  Me: Ok

  Dylan: Goodnight

  Me: Goodnight

  I guessed we could call this closure.

  CHAPTER 10: DYLAN

  “You’re in an awfully pleasant mood this morning,” Ethan grumbled as he spotted me at the bench press.

  “I am? Huh. I didn’t notice.” I smiled as I lifted the weighted bar up another rep.

  “He must’ve gotten laid last night,” Jonas chimed in from another workout bench a few feet away.

  “Guys, come on. I’m just feeling good today. Give me a break,” I snickered.

  It was Sunday morning, and I had met the guys at the gym for a morning workout. It was somewhat of a routine for us, though not usually quite this early.

  I finished a set and placed the bar back on the rack above me. I sat up, toweled the sweat off my forehead and the back of my neck, and stood to let Ethan take his turn while I spotted him.

  A couple of other guys we recognized from the university basketball team came walking up and greeted us with a ritual fist-bump before setting up their weight-lifting stations around us.

  “What’s up, Stephens, McDermott,” Jonas greeted the two guys by their last names, Paul Stephens and Becker McDermott.

  “Guys,” Becker returned with a nod of his head.

  We all nodded and said our helloes.

  Everyone joined in on a casual conversation about how our soccer games were going and how basketball season was just getting started.

  “McDermott, I hear you’re the star player this season. You and Porter are making the rest of us look bad,” Jonas said to Becker as he slapped a hand across the back of my shoulder.

  “Oh, yeah? Porter, you must still be carrying the team, then.” Becker looked in my direction as he curled a dumbbell with one arm.

  “It’s a team effort. These guys are just being modest,” I added for Ethan and Jonas’s benefit.

  “Yeah, it’s a team effort on the field, but Porter still cleans house when it comes to getting all the girls,” Ethan joked.

  Becker raised a suggestive eyebrow. “You don’t say.” He looked as though he had been presented with a challenge.

  I remained quiet and let the guys continue their banter as I turned my focus back to my workout. It wasn’t long before they tried to engage with me once again.

  “Say, Porter. You know Zia Benagli, don’t you?” Paul asked.

  “I do,” I answered, unsure of where he was going with it. “What about her?” I asked skeptically.

  “Becker was just telling me about his date with her last week,” Paul said, waggling his eyebrows as he moved his glance back to Becker. I couldn’t help but notice the arrogant look that had made its way across Becker’s face.

  I suddenly felt like the floor had fallen out from under me. Was he serious? Zia had gone out with this guy only a few days ago?

  “Hell yeah, man. She’s one hot little number,” Becker confirmed. “We’re supposed to be hooking up again soon. Probably this week sometime.” He carried on, but it was all just wordless chatter to me after that.

  Hooking up? What?

  I was dumbfounded. I didn’t know what to say at that point. I wanted to punch the smug smile off his face, but if Zia actually liked this guy, who was I to stand in her way? I knew I had no claim to her, and aside from last night, I’d never had any reason to think she wanted anything with me. Last night couldn’t even really count, all things considered, what with the alcohol and the prior night’s incident with Cason.

  “That’s great. She’s a great girl,” I told him, trying not to let on that it affected me as much as it did. “A great friend,” I added.

  I saw Jonas look over at me, wide-eyed. I could tell he knew what this news would do to me. Ethan was always in his own world, but Jonas knew me a lot better. I shook my head discreetly to him so that he wouldn’t say anything.

  I didn’t know Becker or Paul that well, and I wasn’t about to let on that Becker’s news was eating me up, although I wondered if that wasn’t his intention to begin with.

  I finished up a couple more sets of the weights I was working with, and then excused myself from the group to do some cardio. I made my way over to a treadmill and started to run, which gave me a chance to be alone with my thoughts.

  What was Zia thinking, dating that guy?

  I didn’t know Becker that well, but what I knew about him wasn’t stellar. He had a reputation for being a hot-head with a quick temper. The word among friends was that he had been known to use body-building supplements that may have been a catalyst for the quick temper.

  I personally didn’t care one way or another, but I cared if it meant bad news for Zia. I cared about Zia and wanted the best for her. I wanted her to be happy, but one thing was certain. I did not have a good feeling about Becker.

  Maybe it was jealousy, I thought, as I finished the first mile. In all honesty, it was killing me that Zia had gone out with anyone. I felt a little stupid for thinking earlier that the previous night could have been a turning point for us.

  She had never given me any other indication before last night that she had any feelings for me outside of our arrangement. The only way to know for sure, I thought, would be to see how she reacted moving forward.

  I decided that I was going to wait it out and see if Zia called or texted me that day. If the previous night together had meant anything at all to her and wasn’t just a lapse in judgment, she would want to talk to or see me when she woke up today.

  I decided, as I surpassed mile two, that the ball was in her court. I would just have to wait and see how things played out from there.

  * * *

  I waited all week to hear from Zia, and every day that passed without a word from her solidified that she felt nothing for me.

  Needless to say, I was disheartened and disappointed.

  By Friday, I had all but given up any hope that the night we kissed was anything but a regret for her. Talk about a blow to the ego. This was not something I was used to.

  Luckily, I was able to keep myself busy and my mind occupied, putting my focus on school and that night’s soccer match. I couldn’t even count on the guys to keep me distracted by going out with me. Ethan and Katy were getting pretty serious by that point, and Jonas had been out on a couple dates with Moira already.

  Not that I fe
lt like going out, anyway.

  There was a big turn-out for the game that night as the crowd filled the stands. I played hard, and the team was on point that night.

  It wasn’t until after I had scored my third goal of the game and was coming off the field that I saw her. Sitting in the stands with Clara to one side and Becker to the other, there sat Zia in the cold, cuddled up against him with his arm around her shoulder.

  It felt like a blow to the chest as all my fears were confirmed. Zia was there with another guy. It really was over before it had ever begun between us.

  I knew I had to keep my head in the game. I had to focus and not let it affect my performance. I did my best to pull from all my skill and discipline to separate my personal feelings from the task at hand. Somehow, I was able to pull it off, and we won our game with five points over our opponent’s two.

  After the game, I went and changed in the locker room before heading back out to make an appearance and talk with some of the fans. Everyone was lively and excited as I greeted and shook hands with them.

  A lull in the crowd of people approaching me led me to wander around the grounds, weaving in and out of people aimlessly, but I knew in the back of my mind I was looking for Zia. It wasn’t long before I found her standing alone outside the public restrooms.

  She turned around and smiled as she saw me approaching. “Hey! Great game tonight. You were awesome.”

  “I thought that was you I saw in the stands. I’m glad you enjoyed the game.” It was hard to make eye contact with her, so I found myself looking down at my feet instead.

  “Yeah… Dylan, I hope things aren’t weird between us. I know I acted like a pretty big fool the last time we saw each other, and I wanted to say how sorry I am for that.” Now she was the one looking at her feet as she blushed.

  Not sure of what to say, I remained quiet.

  “I don’t know what got into me. I can only blame the copious amounts of alcohol… and… well, the whole thing with Cason. I guess you could say that shook me up a little bit,” Zia said, filling the silence between us.

  “No need to apologize, Zia. I was just trying to look out for you…” I paused as my words reminded me of Becker and the uneasy feeling I had about her dating him. “Actually, speaking of that… Zia, I saw the guy you were here with tonight. I know it’s none of my business, but I know Becker, and he’s not…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “Not what?” she prodded.

  “I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to tell you how to live your life, or like I don’t want you to be happy with someone else, but…” I trailed off again. I was having the hardest time finding the right words to get my point across, or even deciding if it was a good idea to even try. I didn’t want to seem like a jealous loser.

  “But what, Dylan? Just say what you want to say,” she urged as she reached out and touched my arm at the crook of my elbow. The feel of her hand on my skin sent a rush through me.

  I saw the searching look in her eyes as she looked into mine. I gave an internal sigh as my heart constricted before choosing my words. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Just be careful, okay?” I finally said.

  About that time, Becker came walking up behind Zia and gave me a smug look.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Zia said as she realized Becker had approached her. She turned to look up at him as he snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her in close to him. His eyes remained on me. Zia blushed, seemingly embarrassed by Becker’s public display of affection.

  “Good game, man,” Becker said to me.

  “Thanks, man,” I replied, then looked back to Zia. “See you around, Zia. Take care,” I implored, trying to communicate my sincerity to her.

  I turned to walk back in the direction of the field house. I had some distance between us before I heard Zia call my name, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Dylan, wait!”

  I turned back toward her, hopeful.

  Once she approached, she said, “I owe you one more session, if you want. I mean, I know that the last one kind of really got messed up and didn’t end up how it should have, obviously. But I don’t like to start things without finishing them, so if you still want your last session, just let me know.” She looked up at me expectantly.

  I nodded as I considered her offer. Finally, I responded, “I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

  “Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you,” she said, and walked back to where Becker was waiting.

  When I turned back around, Jonas was standing a few feet in front of me. He had apparently been watching the whole scene play out.

  “Bro.” He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s got to be rough. You all right, man?”

  “I’m all right.” I shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  “You need a drink?” he offered.

  “Bring it to my place. I don’t feel like going out,” I told him.

  He nodded his head in agreement and followed me out to the parking lot. Once we got to my apartment, I took a quick shower, dressed comfortably in pajama pants, sans shirt, and grabbed two beers out of the refrigerator. I handed one to Jonas and opened the other to take a swig.

  “You know Becker is doing this to prove a point, right?” Jonas stated, sitting at the kitchen island.

  “What point is that?” I asked, not sure where he was going with this. I stood on the opposite side of the island, leaning my arms on it in front of me.

  “I see how he acts when you’re around. You’re the Big Man on Campus, so you’re his biggest competition. He’s trying to prove he’s better than you,” Jonas explained. Then he added, “Though to whom, I don’t know.”

  “So you think it’s personal?” I considered his theory.

  Jonas sat quietly in contemplation. Finally, he spoke. “Have you tried telling her how you feel?”

  I looked at him like he was out of his mind.

  “Well? Have you?” he repeated.

  “I haven’t,” I admitted.

  I migrated from the kitchen into the living room as I sat in my recliner. Jonas followed, sitting across from me on the sofa.

  “You have to tell her how you feel, bro,” he stated simply before taking a sip from his beer.

  “I wanted to a millions times. It was just never the right time. Now it’s too late. She’s seeing someone else. I’d be an asshole if I dropped this on her now,” I reasoned.

  “How do you know that she hasn’t been waiting on you to come out and say it?” Jonas asked, shifting to the side to prop his feet up on the cushions beside him.

  I ran my fingers through my damp hair. “How do I know she wants to hear that from me in the first place? And if she did, how do I know she still wants to now?”

  “Okay, put it this way. Do you think Becker is right for her?” Jonas wasn’t giving up, but his beer was beginning to run low.

  “Of course not,” I replied as I stood to grab another pair of beers from the refrigerator.

  He took the new beer from my hand as I held it out to him. “And you’re okay just letting her go, never knowing what would have happened if you had just taken a chance?”

  I sat back in my recliner again. Since when had Jonas gotten so wise? I didn’t answer, but I didn’t have to. My eyebrows furrowed, betraying my inner frustration, as I looked ahead at nothing.

  “All I’m saying is, what have you got to lose at this point?”

  I nodded in agreement.

  Jonas didn’t press anything further, and the conversation changed to various replays of that night’s game among other safe topics before Jonas finally took off right before midnight.

  After he left, I powered off all the lights and went to lie down. It had been a long, draining week, and that night had been the most exhausting of them all.

  I scrolled through my phone briefly before finally pulling up the messaging app. I typed out a message to Zia.

  Me: You awake?

  Zia: I am.

  Me: Sor
ry about earlier. I didn’t mean to come across as a jerk.

  Zia: Don’t think that way. You weren’t a jerk.

  She was killing me.

  Me: When is my last session?

  Zia: You’re still interested?

  Me: Yes

  Zia: I guess we can try tomorrow night if you aren’t busy.

  Me: Tomorrow night it is. Meet me at the Book Shelf at 7?

  Zia: Ok

  Me: Goodnight

  Zia: Goodnight

  It was a last-ditch effort with a slim chance of success. Maybe it would work, and maybe it wouldn’t. One thing was certain; Jonas was right. I had nothing to lose.

  But everything to gain.

  CHAPTER 11: ZIA

  I sat at a table at the Book Shelf alone, still a good fifteen minutes away from the final showdown when Dylan would arrive to have his final session.

  Even after taking my time getting ready tonight, I was early. I decided that an iced tea would suffice today, still turning a little red in the cheeks at the thought of the last time I had been here, all the alcohol I had drunk, and subsequently, the major fool I had made of myself directly following.

  I wanted to take some time out before Dylan got here to psych myself up a bit, and maybe give myself a little pep talk to get myself through it.

  Now that the moment was here, I realized that it was more heartbreaking than I had even considered. This was actually going to be goodbye. How was I going to do this?

  I had wanted to end things on good terms, and that was exactly what I intended to do. Just because I was losing what I now considered to be a true and wonderful, if not unexpected friend, did not mean I shouldn’t do this one last nice thing for him. He at least deserved that much from me.

  The more I had thought about it, the more I decided that I had appreciated Dylan’s reaction to my drunken advances that weekend prior. Imagine how I would have felt now if he had gone along with it, even though he hadn’t felt anything for me. I would feel much more embarrassed, but also angry and taken advantage of, if I was honest with myself.

 

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